Always Crashing In The Same Car
by Scriptive
Summary: Can Dean stop Sam from spiraling down the long beaten road of drug abuse? *REVISED*


**Always Crashing In The Same Car**

"_Every Chance, every chance that I take_

_I take it on the road_

_Those kilometers and the red lights_

_Oh, but I'm always crashing in the same car" _

– Always Crashing In The Same Car by David Bowie

**Okay. So I had this posted awhile ago but I took it down to revise it and such. Also, I'm looking for a beta. Anyone want to beta some of the upcoming chapters :D Pretty pleeeease. **

Sam is slipping and Dean should have seen it coming.

Sam buys Shrooms from a longhaired hippie in Vermont, snorts Crystal Meth in Portland and rides shotgun across the entire Midwest delirious from LSD. He steals painkillers from clinics, popping them at the same frequency of breathing, washing them down with hard liquor.

But it's in Miami where heroin takes Sam hostage.

The sickly, sweet smell on Sam's flannel. The long sleeves under the Florida summer sun. The way his skin is tight across his bones. The disappearing for days on end, lame excuses and increased need for money.  
_  
"Hustling pool just isn't doing it anymore, Dean."_

Right now, Sam is leaned against a grimy back-way alley, pressed into the darkness and cold of the night. Dean hadn't seen him in three weeks; the longest that Sam has ever stayed out without calling.

Dean is searching for Sam. Searching because Sam called him two day's ago saying good-bye, searching because Dean is more prepared to find Sam as a dead, stinking corpse that has been forgotten along with all of the other bums littered along Liberty City.

Dean hears Sam's pained breathing along 52nd Street easily in the same way a Vampire Bat locates its prey in the night. Dean figures it's a little ridiculous, kind of the way a mother can hear it's own crying baby in a room of a million crying babes.

Sam's skinny. Too skinny. His jeans are practically slipping off of his hips and he is swimming in the black t-shirt that he once used to fill out. Dean can see that Sam's eyes are glazed, reflecting only white. His head bob's every so often and Dean knows that Sam is pretty much out in the stars.

Dean thumbs Sam's eyes open, sees his pinpointed pupils and knows what it is right away. Even worse are the popped roads in the crooks of Sam's arms, the dots between his fingers and most likely his toes.

Sam makes a plant towards the ground but Dean manages to catch him by the shoulders right before Sam's chin cracks the cold ground. But instead of Sam's head rising, it stays dropped to his chest and all Dean can see is the top of Sam's head; mussed dark chestnut hair.

He tries to rouse Sam, gives him a few good shakes but Sam doesn't even twitch.

Sam's breathing is shallow. So shallow. When Dean puts two fingers up to Sam's neck to take his pulse, Sam's neck is slick with cold sweat.

And god, Sam looks so tired.

Dean is seriously about to call an ambulance, the 9 and one 1 already entered into the phone, when Sam stirs and his head bobs up once just a tiny bit. Dean drags his oblivious brother down two blocks and loads him into the backseat of the Impala.

Dean turns on the heat full blast because even though it's Miami, it still can get rather cold at night and Sam's body is shivering except Dean doesn't know if it's because of the drugs or low body temperature. Probably both.

After a couple of hours, Sam is able to follow directions and is starting to become a little more lucid and a little bit more agitated as Dean drills him with questions.

_When did you start this Sam, huh? Was it last week in Austin? Last MONTH in Colorado? Where the fuck are you getting the junk, Sam? You're obviously getting hooked up in every city and I don't even want to know how you manage to get fucking connections everywhere when I'm the one that pays the phone bills. What the hell are you thinking? _

The yelling seems to be making Sam more irritated but at the same time more aware and Sam finally sits up straight, his pupils still tiny pricks but he looks Dean straight in the eye.

"_Fine okay. Fine. I'll stop. I promise." _

Dean believes him because this is Sam. This is his geeky, kid brother and Sam is smart. Too smart for drugs. Sam went to _Stanford. _Sam knows better.

**Loved it? Hated it? Let me know :]**


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